Stars, I almost thought I completely forgot how to post a blog entry. And probably most readers did, too. Thanks to a combination of rappidly growing responsibilities at shipwrite offices on just about every station where I've clocked in work hours, the occasional perfectly civilized discussion of the mass, acceleration, and ark of bullets with some banditos and thieves, and a case of withdrawel symtoms do to one of those nifty VIP nanite packs expireing on me, this place has been pretty dead. Also by the void that was a long sentense. But this isn't a lesson on gramatical correctness. It's... the life of a pod inspector!
Bonds. Oh finally, bonds! A small but steady flow of bonds means that those course accelerations are going to start paying for themselves. The hundred credits per day aren't a downer either.
We're past the stage of simple notetaking and display reading. If a pod mucker notices a broken pod, his superior has to fix it. Now that you're that superior, any broken pods or contaminated fluids are on you. Good luck.
But of course, for some strange reason we're back to cleaning. But this time, you can go and push the tanks around yourself, because who knows what's going on behind those. Thing is, it seems that no one bothers to clean the rails, so either you've got enough muscle power to force it or you're not getting anywhere.
However, you'll also get to talk to people! Potential clients need consultation and inspectors know enough about the precedings to give it to them.
So far though, you've been a pod inspector without the inspection part. Luckily inspections is exactly what you can do, because no matter what time or what place, clone tanks get cracked, even if the center fassions them out of duroglass or other materials that really shouldn't break that easily.
It's primitive, and it does get sorted out easily once found, but clone tank tubing is vulnerable to blockage. A cleaning rag is usually enough to break things for a while.